


Into darkness we walk

by LynyrdLionheart



Series: A Wolf in Dorne [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, blind!Oberyn, in which Lyanna is not pleased
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-07
Updated: 2014-09-07
Packaged: 2018-02-16 10:55:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2267118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LynyrdLionheart/pseuds/LynyrdLionheart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oberyn survives the duel with the mountain, but it comes at a cost.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Into darkness we walk

**Author's Note:**

> A prompt from tumblr for OberynxLyanna where Oberyn surives the duel, but comes out of it blind.

All he knew was darkness.

                He could hear voices around him.  Foreign, unfamiliar voices that he didn’t want around him when there was only darkness.  He blinked his eyes open, or _thought_ he blinked his eyes open… only there was no light.  Simply darkness.

                “He will never see again, my Lady,” said one of those foreign voices, only it wasn’t foreign, Oberyn realized.  It belonged to Maester Pycelle, and really that was even worse than a foreign voice.  There were few other men he would rather have around him, when he was entrapped in darkness. Tywin Lannister, perhaps.

                “I’m shocked,” replied a cool voice that sounded anything but shocked, and Oberyn felt his tightened muscles relax when he heard it.  It was Lyanna, her musical voice still carrying hints of the North despite a decade and a half of marriage that had been spent in Dorne, and Oberyn knew he was safe from Pycelle.  Lyanna would slaughter the man that harmed him, he knew this to be fact, just as he would slaughter the man that harmed her.  “I would have never suspected my husband would be unable to see after _having his eyes gouged out_.”

                Oberyn’s muscles tightened once more at Lyanna’s words.  His eyes, gone?  Shouldn’t he feel that?

                Then again, his limbs felt heavy, his mind almost foggy.  If he were drugged…

                Yes, that is another thing Lyanna would do.  To keep him free of pain.  But that meant that his eyes were gone, that the darkness wasn’t an abnormality, but his new normal.  He was the Red Viper, and feared and vicious warrior… but you could not fight if you could not see, and Lyanna – what would Lyanna do with a cripple as a husband?  Lyanna who was so vital and full of life.

                Who would watch over Jon and Torrhen and Rickard and little Mors, when he eventually joined his siblings on the training field?  Who would protect Elia and Myriah, when the suitors began to call, none of whom would be good enough for them, and none of whom would fear a father who could not see?

                Oberyn must have made an unsettled noise, some sound of distress, because suddenly soft hands were on his face, and Oberyn didn’t need his sight to know they belonged to Lyanna.  Would know her touch anywhere.

                “Lya,” he breathed, and he wanted Pycelle gone, didn’t want the man, the loyal little Lannister prick, to see him in his distress and weakness.

                “Leave us, Pycelle,” Lyanna ordered, because she had always knew what he was thinking, had for years, war and marriage forming a bond between them that was unbreakable. 

                “Princess Lyanna, I really must insist-”

                “Do you not have a Mountain to tend to?” Lyanna cut him off, and her voice was as cold as the North from which he had been born.

                “He will die within the day,” Pycelle said, his voice holding a hint of petulance at Lyanna’s interruption, and Oberyn relaxed slightly, just slightly, with the knowledge that while he was blinded, at least the Mountain would die.  “Your husband’s… _weapon_ ensured that.”

                “He is not dead yet,” Lyanna replied simply.  “And we have neither need nor want of your services.  So _leave_.”

                “The Queen Regent-”

                “Does not control who enters my husband’s sickroom.  That role belongs to _me_.  Now leave.  And send Ellaria to us on your way out.”

                There was shuffling, and silence from Pycelle, and then Lyanna bent down, and her lips touched his ear.

                “He is gone, my love.”

                “What has happened to me, Lya?” Oberyn croaked, his hand reaching out blindly for her.  He needed to feel her, to know that she was there, though he couldn’t see her.  Her hand came out, caught his, and held tight. 

                “The Mountain blinded you,” Lyanna replied, her voice once more coolly distant.  “He would have done more, would have _killed_ you, but he thought better of it with my knife buried in his shoulder.  It was, however, declared his victory.  The Imp will die, found guilty by the Gods.”

                “You interrupted the fight,” Oberyn said, and he felt shame, because hadn’t she warned him against pressing for a confession?  Hadn’t she begged him, pleaded with him, to simply end Gregor Clegane and be done with it?

                But Oberyn’s pride, his lust for vengeance, hadn’t allowed that.  And now she had a shamed, blind man for a husband.

                “Lya-” he began, but she cut him off.

                “What were you thinking?  I told you not to demand his confession.  _I told you_!  Yet you would have left me.  Left our _children_!  And what do you think the girls would have done?  Simply let your death lie?  They would have left Dorne to seek recompense, and they would have died in its pursuit just as you tried so hard to do!”

                She had left his side as he spoke, and Oberyn wished more than anything that he could see her lovely face, could soothe her.  Instead, he lie helplessly in the bed, no way of knowing where she stood in the room.

                “Lyanna,” Ellaria’s calm, soothing voice cut through the room, and he heard Lyanna’s pacing cease, Ellaria’s softer steps enter the room.  “Calm yourself, Lya.  Working yourself up like this, it will do nothing for your child.”

                “Child?” Oberyn asked, his voice cutting through the room.  “You’re pregnant?”

                “Why do you care?” Lyanna asked bitterly.  “You were so willing to leave the children you’ve already sired.  What’s one more?”

                Oberyn winced at the ice in the words, but knew he deserved it.  Deserved her ire.  He wasn’t worthy of her.  He hadn’t been when they married, but now?  Now he wasn’t even whole.

                “I will make sure you’re taken care of, as I always have,” Oberyn said, and he thought he may have closed his eyes, but what did it matter anymore?  He couldn’t see anyway.  “You and the children.  Perhaps you would like to join Mellario?  I know you were always very fond of her.  But Dorne will always welcome you as well.  I simply ask that you not try to go North, not until this war is settled.”

                There was a silence in which no one spoke, no one moved, and Oberyn wished again that he could _see_ , because what did Lyanna’s expression look like?  Was she surprised, that he was offering her this escape?  Relieved?

                ” _What_ are you talking about?” her voice finally came out, no longer cold as the North, but filled with all the heat of Dorne, and Oberyn imagined it scorching his skin.

                “I am freeing you from a shamed, blinded husband,” Oberyn replied, feeling confused, because isn’t this what she wanted?  Lyanna had always respected strength, had always loved to spar with him, loved that she was married to a man  with a vicious reputation.  His She-Wolf had fangs of her own, and any man that married her needed to have them to match.

                And now he was a fangless Viper.

                “You’re an idiot,” Lyanna said, and there was something close to wonder in her voice, but not the good kind.  “A Gods damned idiot.  You think I want to _leave_ you?”

                “Lya,” Ellaria said, her voice soft but alarmed and Oberyn could hear their feet shuffling, as though Ellaria had rushed to get between him and Lyanna.  “Hitting him right now won’t change anything.”

                “It will certainly make me feel better!” Lyanna snarled in response.  “And perhaps it will knock some sense into his thick skull!  Thinking I would leave him!  And why?  Because he was an even bigger idiot than usual?  I will admit that I didn’t quite think it was possible… but he does seem determined to prove his stupidity, doesn’t he?”

                Oberyn felt insulted at that, and tried to struggle into a sitting position, because even though he couldn’t see the two women to glare at them, he did at least want to be able to give the illusion he was glaring at them, something he could hardly do from his back.

                “Oh – Lya is right, _you_ are acting the idiot,” Ellaria murmured, and Oberyn felt two pairs of hands, both much softer than their words would have made him believe they would be, pushing him back down.

                “You’re injured, Oberyn,” Lyanna muttered darkly, but her hands stroked his hair, pushing it away from his face.  “You can glare at us all you want once you’ve healed.”

                “There is no healing from this, Lya,” Oberyn replied softly, grasping her hand to kiss her palm.  “I am blind.  That will not change.”

                “Then you will adapt,” Lyanna retorted, as though it were the simplest thing in the world.  “You will adapt, and you will learn to be the Red Viper without your eyesight.  The man I fell in love with could do nothing else.  Now, I have been by your side for three days now.  I smell something horrid.  Ellaria will remain here, will hold your hand until you go back to sleep – _and you will go back to sleep_ – and you can spend your time before that apologizing to her for terrifying her.”

                “Lya-” Oberyn began, but once more Lyanna cut him off.

                “I’m so _mad_ at you, Oberyn.  And so very relieved that you’re alive.  Allow me some time, _please_ , to gain some stability.”

                As Lyanna knew him, Oberyn knew his wife, and he knew that tone.  She needed this, and Oberyn had never been one to deny his wife anything she wanted, much less what she needed, and so he simply lay back, allowed himself to relax beneath Ellaria’s hands, and let his wife go.

                “She will forgive you,” Ellaria murmured to him.  “Give her time, and she will forgive you.  She loves you so.”

                Oberyn didn’t reply, simply relaxed once more, and wished to go back in time, to before the battle with the Mountain.  He wished to go back and tell himself not to be such a fool.

                His wife had always been the more intelligent of the two of them.

**Author's Note:**

> And there it is. I hope you enjoyed it!


End file.
